The Day the Ashes Move
by Zafona
Summary: Picture this: A fantastical world post dual apocalypses where Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jet journey to find the source of strange happenings in their home. They stumble into ancient ruins and a dark truth that their world is nearing its final end. Only humanity's best could withstand the trials to save them, but who has time to look for those clowns?
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

A living planet beneath their feet, civilization grew and fell. Humanity changed with each passing revolution. Energy and particles swarmed in a cycle, everything was self-contained. Nothing added, nothing removed; complete.

Then they discovered how to do it. Pulling the planet's secrets up from its core, mankind wielded magic for the first time.

The power to create in their hands, they found the best in themselves. Incredible feats in medicine rose first, cures for terminal diseases popped up everywhere. An urge to save the dying reared, and an unprecedented era of health began.

Mortality rates were better globally and, in time, ceased to exist. An empire rose, literally, into the sky. The Soaring City became and remained a capital, of sorts, for ages. Yet due to its unbound nature, the city's boundaries came into question many times. It crossed over borders without care, all it took to take it down was one angry world leader.

Magic's creative uses were similarly destructive. A war ended The Soaring City, and when it fell all citizens went with it.

Mankind learned more about their planet that day. The city had been flying much higher than necessary, a bragging right to the governing party. Impact with the surface affected the atmosphere. It became an event recognized as the first critical fall of humanity.

The next round took centuries to begin. The planet's wound had healed, its air breathable again. It recycled its people, creating new ones from their remains.

Humanity continued on, refreshed and without its magical roots. People struggled through the new hardships of their planet, never knowing what used to be.

Instead of magic, they pursued science. Huge leaps in technology started to roll in, each one bigger than the last. People could fly again, their lives built around inventions of their own making.

But waste started to build up in the planet. Humanity's creations left residue, and soon even recycled beings were sickly. Extinctions became increasingly common. Mankind adapted, created more to balance the scale.

In time the planet could no longer keep up. Wars raged on its surface over resources. Bombs fell and people died. And died.

Toxic air was technically the bringer of mankind's second critical fall.

Those that remained rebuilt with what they had, adapted as they could. They walked on top of the old world, millennia of forgotten history beneath their feet.

The planet, poisoned and dying, made its last risky decision. With nothing to lose, it escaped from within itself and left its core cold. One last breath created one last hope. And the planet waited.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 **Heya guys, been a few months since I wrote much. To those who have read my work before, welcome back. And hello to those who haven't, well I hope you enjoy my work :D**

 **I want to keep this updated frequently, but we'll see how that goes.**

* * *

The ground shifted loosely under a child's feet. He hopped from sturdy rock to solid-looking debris, and so on. Each step left his foot blacker, dirt lined every crease in his skin. He jumped to higher and higher pieces, each a small increment further into the air.

"Please don't do that, hun." His mom called from the main path. Wrapped tightly in her arms was a wriggling infant. She held a nervous expression. "Dean, that means now." Her raised tone brought him back down to her.

"Comin' mom!" He yelled as he hopped safely to the ground, a mountain of rubble teetering behind him. He raced up the gray hill, a cloud of dust behind him.

She lowered a free hand to take his, a tired smile rested in her features. "Thank you."

They'd left their home, an underground tunnel refined for nomadic people. It spread for miles, twisting and crossing. For anyone unprepared it was a complete nightmare. Dean had memorized sections of it, he knew enough to get through from one end to the other. His father mapped it before leaving them there.

A soldier, his dad stood with a handful of others as the single line of defense against the old world. He sent them supplies when he could, Dean had only ever spoken to him through letters.

Usually, they read the same way. I miss you. How are you doing? Make sure you pull your weight. I love you. See you someday.

Or something along those lines. But the last one was different.

Mary, I need you to take the boys and come to me. We found a settlement! There are people here, a whole village. We can have a house, I'll be home, and we can give Sam and Dean a structured life, something safe. It won't be easy and I can't come to get you, so the supplies this time are going to be heavier. Go when it gets there, follow the map I sent. The beaten path will get you half way, after you see the marked radio tower on the map head straight east. You should come across our outposts after a few days.

I love you, I'll see you soon.

John

Then they left the tunnels.

Dean stumbled along as he tried to get a better footing, gripping Mary's hand tighter for balance. "Why is the ground so weird?"

"It's ash, sweetheart."

He looked up at her, she kept her gaze ahead and didn't mask the stress. "Ash doesn't feel as good as dirt." He blurted and stamped his foot on it.

A smile cracked her frown, "It'll be okay."

"Is dad gonna meet us?"

"His letter said he would," she replied, adjusting his brother's weight. She was acting weird, but it didn't faze him much.

Dean hummed and looked at the landscape. It took his breath away every time he realized he was getting closer. Large buildings stretched into the sky, they formed a jagged line as they reached the clouds.

A storm loomed overhead, it flickered with sparks of lightning. He'd seen fragments of storms before, but only when they lived near the tunnel entrances.

Those were his favourite resting places, daylight illuminated everything, not fire.

When night fell Mary worried more. She didn't let Dean wander about, and he had to be quiet. He didn't want to ask about the rifle strapped to her back, but the harder she held his hand the more he wondered about it.

"What's wrong, mom?" He asked softly, that seemed to be okay.

"We're fine," she whispered, "just stay close."

He did like she'd asked until they were at the base of the distant buildings.

"Whoooaaaa!" Dean gawked, pulling carelessly against his tether. "Mom look at these!"

"Dean!" She remained hushed, hissing his name. "Shhh."

"But-"

Mary leaned toward him, holding his arm firmly. "I need you to be quiet, dear. We're not following a safe trail, this isn't like being in the tunnels."

"Should I be scared?" He asked tentatively, her face suddenly calmed.

"No, no." She kissed his forehead. "I've got this, but you have to listen, okay?"

"Okay." Dean agreed and did his best.

He'd read John's letter several times when they were preparing to leave. He always read the letters at least twice. Go straight east after passing the radio tower, whatever that was.

They found a space to hide for the night, it was just like a cave but made from debris. Mary set up the shelter's makeshift door while Dean held Sam. He tried to keep his brother quiet, why couldn't babies understand when they had to shut up?

Sam fussed louder the more Dean tried to shush him, ramping up to a scream until Mary came back.

She gathered her youngest and pulled Dean close. "Let's sleep, okay?"

"'Kay."

Mary kissed him goodnight and they settled in.

But Dean couldn't sleep. He looked at the ragged tarp laid over their corner, it whipped loudly when the wind picked up. The rain started soon after, it hit heavily and weighed down their cover. Lightning flashed and he counted the seconds until its thunder rumbled.

"It's not that close," Mary told him after one made him jump.

"I'm not scared." He said, glancing down at the rifle. She reached over and tilted his head toward her face instead.

"You're braver than I am."

* * *

The city was gray and abandoned, left to the elements. Dean wanted to go into one of the buildings, but he didn't bother asking about it. His mom rarely let go of his hand and there was a constant order to stay close if she ever did.

The morning had come fast, he felt like he hadn't slept a wink. Every few seconds brought another yawn, his mouth wound up open more than closed.

"Are we there yet?"

Mary shook her head.

"Can we take a break?"

"Not right now, sweetheart."

"But I'm hungry." He kicked the ground and coughed as ash flew via the wind into his face.

Mary laughed and abruptly stifled it, her echo carrying into the distance. "We'll take a break once we find shelter." She explained softly and led him along.

Dean turned back to see their footprints fading in the ashes, the wind picked up their trail for them. "Is the radio tower close by?"

"We passed that yesterday," Mary smiled down at him. "Do you remember that tall thing with the big bowls on it?"

"Oh, right!" Dean covered his mouth before she could shush him.

If they'd passed the radio tower, then they were off the main path. That meant his dad was close, but also that no one had been this way. The urge to make any noise died and he held firm to his mother's hand.

Each step was too loud now, anything could be out there.

"Are we safe?" He dared to ask in a whisper, his eyes glued to the rifle.

"You are with me," Mary answered without a second thought like she'd decided long before he'd asked. Dean nodded when she checked on his silence.

"Thanks, mom." He rubbed his sleeve over his eyes, wiping away the dampness that had settled.

Dean glanced backward again, now for concern rather than curiosity.

Just at the edge of his vision, he saw something. It moved in the ashes, rising from a mound.

"Mom," he sputtered, limbs trembling.

"Take Sammy," she handed the baby to him and took the rifle from her back. "Get down, stay behind me."

Dean obeyed, ducking back and low. But Mary wasn't looking at the same thing he was. She saw something much closer, it had just turned around a street corner.

A bipedal crocodile-like creature with blades on its forearms. John's letters referred to them as geezards, a scaly armour covered thing.

The rifle fired and Dean jolted, his chest suddenly tight. The geezard recoiled, she'd hit its back, but there wasn't any injury.

"Dad said he shot their bellies!" Dean blurted out, his eyes fixated on the rampaging beast headed their way.

Another deafening bang and flesh tore open, toxic blood sizzling on the stone. Mary steadied herself, "Thanks, sweetie."

"Yeah." He wheezed and rested his head in Sam's blanket, his brother cried about the noise.

The base of an adjacent building started to groan, Dean felt the ground shake from it. He watched the structure shift, something was under there.

In seconds a shelled beast scraped along, barely short enough to fit on the lowest level. It nested in that building for some time, by the look of it. It had some kind of giant shell for a body, jagged pillars jutted from its edges.

The thing roared, crawling on all fours toward the source of the noise that had woken it. "Oh my god..." Mary's hands were white-knuckled on the gun, she'd taken aim but hadn't shot. "Did your dad say anything about these?"

"Nope." Dean clutched Sammy closer, his stomach twisted.

Another woman's voice echoed. She ran screaming from atop a single-story building toward the tortoise monster. A long spear gripped in her hands, she leapt onto its face. The spear laid to rest deep in its right eye, the stranger wrenched her weapon around for good measure.

"Oh my god!" Mary exclaimed again, her mouth agape in awe.

"You looked like you needed a hand." The lady grinned at them, her balance remained as the creature collapsed.

As the dust settled Mary let them approach, keeping her eye on how dead the tortoise was. "Thank you, I hadn't run into one of those before."

"Yeah, same. Though I find that when you stab the brain things usually die." The stranger winked before pulling her spear from its eye. She looked toward the building she'd come from and waved. "Okay baby, you can come out now."

Another boy appeared and climbed down from the roof. "Can I help next time?"

"Next time it's your size."

Dean stared hard at the other kid, long enough to bring about a reaction.

The boy's nose crinkled, "What?"

"Are you my age?"

"I dunno."

Mary laughed tiredly and shouldered her rifle. "My name's Mary, these are my boys Sam and Dean."

"Nikki, this is Jet." Nikki smiled down at Dean, "And he's five."

"So am I!" He beamed,

Jet held onto his mom's pant leg, ducking against the fabric. Nikki ruffled his hair lightly, "What're you doing out here with a baby?"

"My husband's with a group of Defenders, they found a settlement out this way," Mary explained, fumbling for her map.

"Mine is too," Nikki brightened and lifted up her own tattered pages. "Guess we're headed the same way, then."

"I guess so." Relief traced Mary's tone, her hands were steadier when she took Sammy back.

Nikki pointed East, "How about we get moving? Standing in the open isn't going to help us any."

"Yeah." Mary agreed, and they set out together.

Dean looked back again, the mounds of ashes had blown away. But something else was there. A small figure stood in the shadows of the ruins, watching.

"It's there!" He yelled and tugged at his mom's sleeve. "Mom! Mom, something's there!"

"Dean, hush." Mary knelt down and turned to where he was pointing. After a moment of searching, she shook her head. "I don't see anything. What'd it look like?"

"It's right there," Dean pointed again, but it had moved on. "Wait, where is it?"

"Don't worry, most things out here make a lot of noise before they attack." Nikki reassured them, "Did you guys live underground?"

"Mostly." Mary sighed, a smile on her face. "It's been a while, I can't remember the last time I was up here."

"Congrats on making it this far."

"I know, right?"

* * *

The small team of five shuffled along together. After leaving the city limits they lost the 'silence' rule. Yet talking remained at low volumes anyway, everyone got a little spooked.

Sunlight fell and Dean forgot any anxiety he'd had about the disappearing figure. He ended up with his gaze lingering on Jet for an extended period of time.

"What?" The boy suddenly snapped, but Dean went unfazed.

"I never met someone my age."

Jet, surprised and still attached to Nikki's leg, started to crack up. "Me either."

"Do you wanna be best friends?"

"Yeah!"

"I see it!" Mary interrupted with a sudden burst of joy.

A cluster of buildings laid in the distance, Dean could see Defender vehicles and people around. "Is dad there?" He asked, eager with shaky legs.

"He better be." Mary picked up her pace, cradling Sam's head as she went.

Dean felt his heart racing, gravel and dirt padded his feet. As they closed in some of the Defenders noticed their approach. And then two broke off, coming to meet them half way.

His dad threw off the helmet and opened his arms, catching Mary as she reached him.

"I can't believe you found one!" She cried, overwhelmed.

"You're home, Mary." John laughed, tears tangled in his beard.

That night, Dean's dad held him for the first time he could remember.

* * *

 **Interlude**

* * *

Separated from its core, the planet's energy searched for the possibility of salvation.

It found nothing. Nothing but mutation and monsters. Its lands were barren, it doubted that anything else could live there.

Until the day a few humans appeared. They crawled out of a system of caves, a mother, and her children.

It followed them, the first signs of intelligent life worth saving. Something to exist for.

It watched the mother's face, how her golden hair shaped its roundness, hiding tension. She was healthy, carrying an infant well enough to be curious.

It became enthralled with the boy named Dean. So much joy and intensity packed into something so small. He had a wonderful laugh that made the planet's sentience wish it could do the same.

On their travels, it felt something, something calling it.

For that brief moment, it left Dean and his family.

The voices that called came to him from a doorway, hidden behind a veil that he could not touch. He would need a human or a body.

It decided to communicate with the mother and her sons. Returning to them, it discovered an awakened monster. Hard shelled and angered, it would prove too much for them.

To intervene it needed a body.

The creature shifted, the family was unaware.

Saving the last of other sentient lifeforms was important. It didn't hesitate, the process of creating a form was lengthy and time was short.

It needed soil to start, buried beneath a city of ashes.

It began the infusion process as soon as it was able. The creature had already started to emerge, the seconds ticked by.

Sentient energy took the form of a soul, it became the body it had created. It reached out of the ashes, muscle and skin forming over bone. Pain sealed its choice, centuries of agony compacted down into moments.

It hurt too much to fight, but that didn't matter. It transfigured the tip of a spear wielded by a new human. The spearhead was set to decimate the first thing it came into contact with. The result was a liquefied brain.

With a body, it could reach the door, but it committed to following them until they were safe and home. The reunion was a warming sight, it would be happy to revive for them.

The walk to the door was too difficult. Its limbs ached, and more creatures came out at night. It wasn't even close when it turned back.

It would make another attempt each day, getting closer every try. A year had passed when it finally reached the veil.

It opened the door and found the voices, guides for the universe. The world beyond the door begged its patience.

Help was on the way, they told it.

Life was coming again, but it would not be free. A demonstration of how deserving its inhabitants were, that was the price.

Until the time was right, however, it would have to wait. It closed the door and moved on back to the settlement. If it had to wait, it might as well be nearby the beings it liked.


	3. Chapter 2

"Maybe we could ask if anyone else has noticed-"

"People are already talking, Mary."

"Well... it's not a bad thing, is it?"

Dean listened to his parents through thin walls. They discussed his future as if it had changed dramatically.

And maybe it had, but he didn't grasp the magnitude of it. He didn't understand enough, he hadn't seen the weight of the world.

Miracle foliage had grown around their home. It wasn't much at first, grass surrounded the foundation of the house. The density around Dean's bedroom was their first hint.

The next thing they noticed was the trail of grass to market after they started taking him. Mary was the first to mention it, John dismissed the notion.

Mary took him to the Tull household on play dates. Jet was the second person to mention the green carpet following him. It connected their homes, Jet called it Dean's trail to freedom.

John still didn't want to think it was coming from his son. "We're a normal family, grass just happens to be growing in this area. That's probably why they settled here."

"But there wasn't any before we moved in," Mary insisted, opposing his distant tone. "He's special. Dean's been blessed-"

"We're not talking about angels again." John interrupted her, loud and confrontational. "Miracles don't exist."

"Then explain how that's growing in this soil?" Mary wasn't rolling over that night. She stood up for him, Dean thought and smiled.

Letters of his father painted a different picture than reality had. His dad, he thought was a heroic fighter who did what he had to for them all to survive.

And yeah, John did what his family needed to live. But he wasn't the hero Dean had expected. He was angrier than his letters let on, and words that left his mouth were harsher than those that left his hand.

John had stopped by the tunnels once, Dean learned. He'd asked about babies and his mom said it took a mom and dad to make one. Dean didn't remember seeing his dad around when Sam popped up.

Sam started crying, her voice became more distant as she went to him. "I'm asking tomorrow, John. I don't care if you come with me or not."

"I don't want people to treat him different! You haven't been around people a lot, Mary. I get it that you don't think about that sort of thing, but-"

"Just shut up, John."

A tense silence followed, then a loud bang as the door slammed shut. Dean waited a few seconds, listening to Sammy cry and soft hush from Mary. He got out of bed and walked to open his door, "Mom?"

She looked surprised when she saw him, her lips trembled for a second. "Dean, I didn't know you were still awake."

"It's okay, mom." He hugged her legs, pressing his cheek against her.

She touched his hair and her hand strayed to lift his chin. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Dean smiled, "So what're we doin' tomorrow?"

"I'll tell you later, but right now you should be in bed."

"Aww."

"C'mon, let's go."

* * *

Dean held Mary's hand as she pushed Sam's stroller with the other. They were going to go around and ask the community if they'd noticed any other plant life growing.

It excited him, Jet and Nikki were coming too.

They stopped by, knocking only once before Jet opened the door. A bright smile lit up his face when he saw them. "Hey, Dean!"

"Hi, Jet!" Dean was just as loud. "Didja hear? I make the grass grow."

"Bullshit."

"Watch your mouth." Nikki barked and Jet immediately flinched.

"Sorry, ma."

"For real, though." Dean continued after Nikki's attention returned to Mary.

"Prove it." Jet countered.

Dean hesitated, "How?"

"I don't know, you're the one with the grass powers."

"C'mon boys," Mary said, sweetness in her tone.

Dean and Jet trailed along behind their moms, Jet's eyes on the ground under Dean's feet.

"I don't buy it." He determined.

"It's not that fast!"

"Then how d'ya know it's you?" Jet raised an eyebrow.

"Mom says."

"Oh. Cool."

After that, Jet never doubted him about it. Dean would learn to appreciate that loyalty.

By the end of the day, his mom's energy had changed. She seemed more upbeat, excited for him somehow. Dean played with Jet majority of the time, he hadn't listened to the neighbours.

"What happened, mom?" He asked her once they dropped Jet and Nikki off.

"Everything's going to be fine, sweetie." She said, taking his hand in hers.

John was home when they got back, his expression dismal. There was a gun on the table, and a strange bottle Dean hadn't seen before.

"Honey?" Mary uttered in a calm manner, stepping in front of her son before John could see. Dean looked up at her, his heart stuttered.

"Saw some monsters," John said, he was tired. "We followed 'em out a few miles and..." He stalled, his eyes shined and he rubbed a sleeve over them.

Mary relaxed and walked to his side. "Are you alright?" She whispered as Dean started to take Sam from his stroller.

Dean heard the conversation, even if they didn't want him to. He'd been sent off, but he still heard about the dead people.

There had been a group of settlers coming to live in their village. And there had also been something his dad called an abyss worm. Dean's stomach twisted as John described it to Mary.

As long as any building, it would spring from large gouges in the land. Its mouth opened at the widest end, teeth lining as far down as light reached. The largest of which were at the entrance, spiked fangs strong enough to pierce a man in seconds.

"Did your team kill it?" She asked, a hush fell over the house.

"Not yet. But we will tomorrow, don't worry."

They didn't say more after that, not that Dean could hear. He looked at the crib, and then at the wriggling toes that poked out.

"Are you gonna die?" He blurted out, he could hear the startled steps of his mom. Dean stood up and went to them again, his gaze on the gun and the strange bottle.

John's eyes were reddened, his mouth tight. "I don't know, yet."

"Don't," Dean said. "Mom would be sad."

"And you?" Mary brushed his hair over his ear.

"I'm used to it, I'd be okay." He didn't understand why his honesty made his dad cry.

The next day was like it had never happened. John had breakfast with them, his equipment all set to go. Dean hugged him goodbye, his dad squeezed harder than usual.

"I love you, Dean." He had tears in his eyes again.

And then John left with the other Defenders. That was when Dean learned that Jet's dad was one of them too. He saw a similar goodbye just next door, they didn't need to talk about it.

The following few days were normal until a rapid knock hit their door. Mary opened it to an excited Jet, "Is Dean home?"

She stifled a laugh and stepped aside for him, "He sure is, go on inside."

"Thanks!"Jet rushed right to him. "Guess what! Guess what!"

Startled, he attempted to answer but Jet cut him off.

"Everyone's talking about your grass powers! There's little patches growing all around the village."

"For real?" Dean beamed.

"Totally! Just ask my mom."

Mary looked at Nikki, who had followed behind her son. "Is that true?"

"Yeah," Nikki smirked. "Some people even want Dean to visit them so they'll have some too."

"I'm not renting out my kid." She laughed and invited them in to stay a while.

Dean didn't think much of it at the time, but his life started to shift that day. He saw more and more of each villager, their houses, and families.

He would sit in one home after another, his mom would talk with the other adults.

"I understand, but we'd be more comfortable keeping Dean at home until this thing is figured out," Mary explained. Over and over again she said the same thing to different people.

Dean tried to play with any kids around, though Jet was the only one his age. Some of the younger ones reminded him of Sammy, who they'd left with Nikki at that time.

They finished two days later. Everyone had to wait, that was the bottom line. "John will decide what to do when he comes home," Mary had told them. She wouldn't have had to, but it seemed her first explanation wasn't good enough.

No one argued after she mentioned John. He was a well-liked Defender, respected around town.

John's team returned 3 days after they'd left. Someone had seen them emerge at the treeline far to the West. They called it the Mummified Forest.

Dean remembered that day. Mary dressed him up as nice as could be, her expression was joyful but tense. He held her hand as they walked to the edge of town, other villagers were already waiting there.

Jet waved at him when they arrived. "They're in the field."

Dean followed the crowd's gaze to the men nearing their home. Features were too far to distinguish, but it was clear that their numbers had decreased.

"Is dad with them?" He asked, turning toward his mom.

She smiled tightly, she had no idea. "We'll see."

The second their faces became clear people broke off from the crowd.

Dean had to wait, his hand strong in Mary's. John wasn't visible on the front lines. Sammy started to cry and Mary looked away from the soldiers, but Dean couldn't. He found himself needing to see his dad again.

The Defenders reached them, Dean looked at the pair in the back that pulled a cart. It had two bodies on it, he recognized the hair of one of them.

"It's dad." He said, his stomach sick.

"Oh my god," Mary hurried them over, the two pulling the cart smiling.

"He got lucky," one of them said. It was Jet's dad, Dean realized.

John raised his hand when he noticed them, "We're the injured ones." He explained as Mary appeared in his view.

"How bad is it?"

"Just my leg."

Mary gasped softly when she looked, Dean couldn't get a good angle. Another Defender picked him up and put him on the cart. He tried not to look at the unconscious man, keeping his disbelieving eyes on his dad.

"Hey kiddo," John smiled, his face stenciled with pain.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, unable to understand how he felt at that moment.

"Kinda."

He looked at his dad's legs; the right was wrapped up, the left was in a splint. It was then that Dean noticed the third figure on the cart. A small body in the corner, he missed it other than the leg in his peripheral.

He looked at the stranger, perched beside the other soldier hesitantly. They couldn't have been older than himself, nearly the same size.

Their stare was piercing and unending. Not once did they look away from Dean during the trip to the doctor.


	4. Ch2 Interlude

**Author's Note:**

 **Hey sorry I've been gone a while, some complicated things happened and depression came back with a vengeance. I'm doing better so I'm getting back to work :)**

* * *

The Defenders made camp near the incident, eyes peeled for their wormy friend. John stared forward, his demeanour the same as any of the older people in his company.

Battle hardened folks with scars to show it. They were the silent bunch, hundreds of intentions declared with a single nod.

"How's it going, Winchester?"

John looked up at Lawrence Tull, a taller man with a permanent sneer. "Nothing so far."

Their wives were friends, thus so were they. Not that John disliked Lawrence, they had actually become pals beforehand. It was a happy coincidence to discover Mary and Nikki met on their own.

"We're close to the chasm, should be any time now."

"Mm."

Lawrence chuckled, bringing John's gaze back to him. "Newbies seem pretty excited."

John looked at the newest Defenders. They were teenagers, lived in the settlement as long as they could remember. "You think they should be?" He asked dully.

"Hell no," said Tull with a smirk. "They're about to fight an abyss worm."

He was about to answer when the ground shook. A gargled shriek closed in from a nearby crevice, rising to the surface.

"Here it comes!" Someone shouted and it appeared, like a rocket from the bottom of the cliff.

Large flaps of muscle lifted away from its mouth, a fanged chasm. The ground shook with its guttural roar, phlegm flew overhead. John ducked behind his cover, screaming for others to get down too.

Rock corroded under the fluid as it landed, some splashed at John's side. He flinched away, discarding his coat as the sleeve disintegrated.

Screams erupted from his men, he heard a familiar sick sound as limbs shucked into the dirt. Gurgled and horrified, they stumbled over the ashen ground until. As the saliva ate through bone, they fell.

Bad luck killed them, not lack of skill. John hated to see such wasted potential, but it came with the job. He rose to see over his defense, the worm loomed above but made no moves.

Its attention lingered down, hissing at the cliff edge. John squinted in the darkness, something was there in its shadow.

A flare gun fired from their unit, its red light bouncing from the worm's belly. Causing no harm, the flare illuminated their foe and the source of its irritation.

The small frame of a child stood at the abyss worm's base. John felt his stomach knot, he'd never make it in time. That didn't stop him from trying, running like a madman to a suicidal rescue.

The worm lunged down, crashing face first into the ground where the kid was.

But John was wrong, he had made it. He caught the child and threw them both with his momentum. The kid crashed into the rocks, and John felt a crushing weight on his legs.

He could hear himself cursing and yelling, it hurt too much to pay attention to the words. He crawled when the worm lifted again, dragging himself a few inches before he had to stop. Pain shot through his body and a scream tore from his throat.

"It's okay," the child said to him. Its voice was soothing but strange, almost as if their vocal chords were just used for the first time.

John looked up at the kid, blood had painted streaks from his hair down his chin. A head injury, no doubt from hitting the rocks. Yet they didn't seem fazed by it, like it didn't hurt at all.

Before he found the words to respond, the child climbed up as the perfect sacrifice for the worm.

"What are you doing!?"

"Get down from there, kid!"

"Oh my god! OH MY GOD!"

In seconds it had eaten the kid. The abyss worm crashed into the ground again, nothing but a crater remained when it lifted.

John's stomach turned. Lawrence ran to his side, saying something about moving. That kid couldn't have been much older than Dean, he thought.

The ground rumbled as the beast roared, shaking too much for Lawrence to keep balance either. He tried to drag John along the ground, it was slow moving as the worm leaned back for another body slam.

A glow flickered in its belly.

John would've sworn he'd lost his mind, but the worm's stomach lit up. Light poured out of its maw, shiny teeth vibrating from a hideous screech.

It thrashed, acid rained on the Defenders another time. John closed his eyes and waited, but nothing hit him. The night filled with death rattles, his ears rang as the memory lodged deep within his brain.

He looked up to see the worm convulse, then John's dream came true. It fell off the ledge, out of sight just in time for a sickening sound. Like flesh tearing, wet and unnaturally loud.

Blood sprayed out of the chasm, a fountain falling in the dark.

Cheers erupted from the Defenders that remained, John could only stare blankly.

Had the child done that? John's mind swarmed with the question on repeat, as well as the possibilities it suggested. His team packed up what they could from their fallen allies, him included.

Moving hurt like a bitch. Lawrence had stuffed a ball of cloth into his mouth before they tried it. He snarled and cursed as they lifted him onto the cart.

John was in and out at that time. One second he was in agony, the next he was numb and facing the sky. He heard his own scream, then suddenly it became the hushed chatter of his team.

"Hold on!" Someone shouted another moment later. The sky was brighter now, the sun on its way. John blinked, bleary-eyed and confused about the time.

Another moment passed, it was further into the morning. John could now smell something putrid. It lingered at the back of his nose, stubborn and planted.

"Hey John," Lawrence leaned into his view, a stupid smile on his face. "Guess who we just got?"

John narrowed his eyes, his mouth didn't want to work for him. "Who?" He croaked out.

Lawrence lifted the child for John to see. A boy with dark hair and dirty skin, clothed in a dead man's shirt.

"You got eaten," John said in disbelief.

The child nodded simply.

"We're taking him home with us." Lawrence declared and placed the boy in the cart by John's feet.

He looked down and noticed his legs. "Are they broken?" He didn't want to move them to find out.

"One is, the other got some saliva on it."

"I thought I dodged that."

"You got lucky," Tull reassured him as the cart jostled and began to move. There were only two bars of wood blocking the tail of the cart, it left his view open. John could easily see the battlefield as they pulled away.

But he regretted seeing it and laid his head back. A sight that explained such a horrible smell also left him feeling worse for knowing it.

There were piles of body remains, liquefied and still bubbling in select areas. An unfortunate part of his team had been turned into soup.

The child shuffled to the other end of the cart, doing well to not touch either John or the unconscious Defender.

"What's your name?" John asked, there was no response. "C'mon, I know you can talk."

"I don't have one." The boy answered, his voice was still so strange. John couldn't place it, though.

"Joey." One guy said.

"No way." Lawrence shut him down immediately. "It's gotta be something impressive, y'know? He survived getting eaten by a worm."

John thought of Mary then. "What about... an angel's name?" He suggested, sparking the longest argument about names he'd been part of since Sam.


End file.
